Chapter 9: Goodwill Ambassador

Disclaimer: All the characters and places belong to their respective creators and owners. I only own my OC and make no money whatsoever out of this.

I had never particularly liked to go clubbing as a human, first of all because I felt the music was too loud, and, when I went out with friends, I wanted to be able to talk to them without tearing my lungs out. Secondly, clubs were usually so crowded that you could not even really dance, you just barely managed to stand up and move your arms – slightly – most of the time. Ok, that was probably for the best, since my dancing prowess bordered on the embarrassing side.

Therefore, the loud music of the Asylum did nothing to improve my mood, as I made my way through the crowd to reach the bar. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder and I prayed that it wouldn't be one of those half-drunk patrons who just would not hear no as an answer: I couldn't even take advantage of the occasion to drink their blood, since I had to keep my lucidity, besides they mostly were not of my taste. Luckily, it turned out to be Knox.

"Hey, there! Long time no see!" he yelled at my ear and I nodded with a polite smile.

"Yes, have been… quite busy…" I shouted back, asking myself what he wanted, or better, if Tung were involved.

"Heard there's gonna be a really big gig Downtown." So he wanted to ask about the Conclave, too bad for him that I wasn't a stumbling newbie anymore.

"Ah, yes, the Muse in concert! Did not know you were a fan," I replied with an innocent grin. "Listen, I am running late for an appointment and I really have to go. It was nice seeing you again, send my regards to your boss!"

Ignoring his protests I got the attention of the barman, who, wordlessly, indicated me he had opened the elevator. I quickly slipped through the crowd and beyond the sliding door, pushing the up button. It came to stop with a clang and I readied myself, reflexively smoothing some crinkles on my skirt. I knocked lightly and Therese's haughty voice told me to come in.

"Primogen Voerman, it is a pleasure seeing you again. I apologise for yesterday night."

Better being courteous and thread carefully, since if I messed this up I would make myself two extremely powerful enemies.

"Please, take a seat," she gestured curtly, and I complied, although the wooden chair seemed designed to be uncomfortable. "It has been a long time since your last visit, even though I hear that you still come to Santa Monica, from time to time."

"Yes, mostly for brief commissions. Nothing I felt I should dare to disturb you with… After all, with your key role in the Camarilla, you must be terribly busy," I replied with my most gentle tone, inwardly even more annoyed. Did she really expect for me to announce every little single visit of mine into her "domain"? She was not even a Baron anymore, and this was Camarilla territory, under jurisdiction of the Prince.

"Indeed, my position is exceedingly demanding… so many Kindred are depending on me. But it is the mission of my Clan, to bear the burden of these responsibilities. You will understand one day, if you are lucky enough to reach my level," she replied pompously, practically looking down on me. Had it been anyone else, I would have been slightly offended, but I was simply amused: she really wouldn't get over this Ventrue act. I wondered how she could justify it to herself that she was the "Malkavian" Primogen, or perhaps nobody had ever dared to address her clan openly; then, how did she explain Cutteridge's presence in the Council? Maybe she had convinced herself that he was the Malkavian Primogen. The possibilities were endless.

"Of course: you are a true inspiration, Primogen Voerman. I hope I will manage to be even half as accomplished as you are," I said amiably, in full suck-up mode. Dealing with her was very similar to dealing with LaCroix when he was in charge, only that he was less mad… No, actually it was practically the same, the only difference was that he did not have a "Jeanette". The image of LaCroix's playboy, dissolute "twin", ruffled hair and dressed in a half-unbuttoned shirt, filled my mind and, despite the seriousness of the situation, I had to use all of my willpower not to burst into laughter. I tried to imagine how he would call him, something like Jean Luc, probably.

"You seem to have an aptitude for getting yourself close to the man in charge, so I would say you have good possibilities," she replied with an undertone that reminded me of when she was dealing with Jeanette.

Ok, this was insulting, plain and simple, and I dug my nails hard in the palm of my hidden hands to keep myself from showing it, or worse, from letting out the witty comeback that was rolling on my tongue most temptingly. To hear such a thing from the Kindred whose "sister" had gotten around to "know" (in the biblical sense of the word) half the male population of LA, it was ironic to say the least. My rational side provided that the fact that she was so openly hostile, when half of the Council right now seemed to want to get in my good grace, it had to mean that her "feelings" for Strauss were clouding her political judgement quite intensely. If I were able to prove to her I was not a "rival", but the exact opposite, I wouldn't have to worry about her anymore. The Regent would deal with her, I did not want to risk interfering more than I already had.

"Close?" I chuckled, trying to convey how ludicrous that idea was. "If there is one thing I do not enjoy, Primogen Voerman, it is intimacy. Emotional attachments are irrational and distracting, not to mention an unnecessary hindrance. But I guess I am preaching to the converted, since your detachment from… human sentiments is one of the reasons why I have always admired you."

Flattery, reassurance and a jab all in one: I was quite proud of myself. Let her squirm and struggle with the impropriety of her emotions for the Regent, while making her believe I was oblivious to them. It would be relieving for Strauss (and less embarrassing) if she did not wear them on her sleeve. Moreover, the fact that she saw them as a dirty secret would only give him more leverage on her, with fewer drawbacks.

"Of course, such weaknesses are unworthy of a Ventrue, we gladly leave the burden to those debauched Toreadors," she replied, her nose up in the air, but I knew I had hit her, although she was quite good at concealing it.

"Indeed, it is one aspect of Kine condition that I truly do not miss… But I do not want to waste your time discussing these trivialities and I know that you like to get straight to the point, so… Why did you want to see me?" I asked, thus reinforcing my ignorance and the impression that my latest assertions were merely coincidental and not purposefully laid out.

"I am sponsoring an exhibition at the local Art Gallery, opening next week," she explained impassively, handing me some pamphlets. The theme was "The duality in nature" and I bit my lip not to smirk. Well, at least it did not scream "I am Kindred" as the one I was tricked into sabotaging, but it still was quite revealing. The self-destructive side of her would always emerge, evidently.

"It seems like an interesting project, although I am not much of an art connoisseur."

"Yes, we should not deprive Toreadors of their only field of competence, besides the aforesaid licentiousness," she remarked with a smirk and I chuckled at her joke, although a blind man in Nevada would have seen it coming. "I could not care less about the paintings, truth to be told, but wealthy Kine investors like to boast their sophisticated philanthropy, even if most of them could not distinguish a Picasso from a Van Gogh."

I honestly smiled at that, it was a bit exaggerated, but I had met quite a few people in my life who would fit the description, most especially spoiled heirs who usually ended up dilapidating their inherited fortune faster than they could… spell Van Gogh.

"Since the security at my last exhibition turned out to be… lacking, I would like for you to oversee the opening, discreetly," she concluded with what was supposed to be a polite smile. Did she really think I had time or will to play security guard for her? I was not the new Kid off the block anymore. Or was it all a ruse to attract Strauss to the event? Or maybe…

"I am working for Primogen Strauss now, so it would be ill-mannered of me to accept extra assignments without asking for his approval first," I clarified as gently as I could, to convey the fact that I was truly sorry – as if . From her expression I knew that this was the info she was aiming to get, and I gladly let her think that she had subtly managed to steer the conversation where she wanted. It was my occasion to execute the Regent's order and pass on the message.

"This did not seem to be a problem with LaCroix," she observed flatly.

"Yes, but the Regent's way of conducting business is very different from LaCroix's, quite thankfully, and I am still adjusting… so to speak," I purposefully stumbled, trying to imply uncertainty and some discomfort about the situation.

"How different?" she asked casually, as if she were completely uninterested and merely enquiring on a whim.

"In a good sense, really. I mean, with LaCroix there was a great degree of affectation… To tell you the truth, I was extremely uncomfortable with the whole step-Sire role he played, despite knowing that it was merely a charade… With Strauss it is quite the contrary: he treats everything as a simple contract, with rules and clauses and… we do not have to act as if we cared about each other. It is truly refreshing and it saves time," I said with a smile and in my best laid-back tone. She had met me when I was a rookie, and she could not know exactly how much I had improved since then. Let her believe I was playing in her hands.

"I see… Well, then I will wait for the Regent's decision on the matter," she stated pensively: now that she had gotten what she wanted, the rest was insignificant and she was not that good at masking it. Although it had to be said to her credit that I knew what to look for, so she had been at a disadvantage from the beginning of our conversation.

"Yes, I am truly sorry for this impediment," I trailed off, outwardly conflicted. "I would not dare to speak on his behalf but, well… If I may make an educated guess, I believe that, seeing as it is a request from an esteemed Primogen and ally, he will go out of his way to be of assistance."

With the election in two nights, Strauss needed Voerman's support, so I knew that he would not deny her a favour now, even if it were barely more than a pretext. It was the main reason why he had insisted that I visited the various Primogen before the Conclave, after all: I was to be the goodwill ambassador. Besides, I could sense that it would be my problem to solve, although security was not exactly my area of expertise. I knew a few Kindred who could help, though, and… one favour more, one less, it did not make much difference in the net of debts and credits that was the un-life.

I was rewarded with Therese's first genuine smile since… since forever, probably, and there was something childish in it that made me feel a lump in my throat. Never mind the insults, or the aggravation: she would be like putty in the Regent's hands, and a part of me could not help but feel sorry for her. Another part, though, was extremely satisfied for a work well done: our world was ruled by natural selection, and empathy was a luxury I could not afford to indulge in frequently

"Very well, then… You may take your leave," she proclaimed, regaining her composure and blank expression, as she scanned some paperwork. Back to the Ventrue portrayal, but the brusqueness was more than welcome, since I still needed to head to Hollywood. I merely nodded and half-bowed, wasting no time in making my exit.

My trip to the Warrens had gone pretty well, all things considered. Mitnick had gloated for a bit about his help during the climb of the tower, showing me some of the footage, for good measure. It was a weird sensation, seeing myself in action, although he had purposefully focused on the "funny" parts (basically those where I looked like an idiot). Then he had entrusted me with a few more webcams and requested me to wire some other buildings, saying he would give me detailed instructions by mail. I told him too that I would need to speak with the Regent first: I did not want to risk interfering with his plans, and it was better to be safe than sorry. Gary basically wanted to stress how much his support during the Council and at the Conclave was going to cost the Regent, while having some more fun at my expenses with some variations of his disappearing act, which was getting quite old, nevertheless. He entrusted me with an envelope to give to Strauss personally, and I decided that there was no way in hell that I was going to bring that thing in my apartment, whatever it may contain; plus I really needed to report my activities to the Regent.

Therefore, hoping my clothes had not absorbed the… unique aroma of Gary's quarters, I made a brief stop at the Chantry, but, as I turned the corner, I was intercepted by an unknown female Tremere. Long dark brown hair, mocha coloured skin and sunglasses, coupled with a long trench coat, she could have rightfully belonged in the film "The Matrix".

"Irene Wilson, I suppose," she addressed me flatly, and I nodded.

"And you must be Alexandra, I am afraid I do not know the surname," I replied with a polite smile, recognising her from the voice and being rewarded with a surprised look. Let her wonder how much exactly I knew about her, when in reality it was practically nothing.

"Carrington, Alexandra Carrington," she clarified and it was my turn to be surprised because it sounded familiar.

"You wouldn't happen to be that gifted nuclear physicist who worked at the MIT and suddenly disappeared some… ten years ago…" I asked, suddenly realising how fast the time had passed. I had been a fresher and the news had been the talk of the campus for months.

"That would be me, yes," she confirmed and I could detect an hint of wistfulness. Something I could identify with perfectly. "How do you know?"

I explained it to her and how my Embrace had basically lead to the same situation, although here at UCLA.

"I would never have imagined someone like you were a scholar, although in Economics," she murmured haughtily and I held a sigh: I was used to be looked down upon by other categories of scientists. Our field, being a mixture of many things and considered quite "mundane", was not deemed as perfect and worthy as theirs. Some went as far as claiming it was not really a science. To some extent I had to agree with them, deep down: their rules were far more set and definite, since we basically studied something as fickle as human behaviour, but it was still annoying, especially when we were now no more than a Tremere and a Ventrue youngsters.

"Well, it is not a common knowledge, besides my field of work has been quite… different… in the last two years," I provided, and I could see that I had uncovered a raw spot for her too. "For a physicist the existence of something like Vampires and, basically, magic… it must have been a blow."

She did not respond, but I knew I had hit jackpot: all the certainties on which a life had been based torn asunder in a moment. All that time, trying to prove that science could explain everything, even the essence of life and death… seemingly wasted, when a Tremere could bend and make a fool out of the rules her former myths and mentors had devoted their entire existences to study and formulate. In retrospective, there was not so much to feel superior about: we had all been oblivious pawns in a game that encompassed the entire world.

"I am here to see the Regent," I explained, to interrupt the awkward silence.

"He is busy at the moment, if you want me to relate a message," she trailed off and I could sense curiosity and perhaps a trace of hostility.

"I thank you for your offer, but I had specific instructions to speak with him directly, and only with him," I replied with my friendliest smile, trying to convey that it wasn't something personal.

"Then, you will have to come back at some other time," she drawled expressionless, and I was about to insist when the Regent's voice interrupted us. He emerged from behind a corner, with no one but Cutteridge himself in tow.

"It is all right, Alexandra, as you can see I am free now, if you would accompany Primogen Cutteridge to the door… Irene," he said with a smile, gesturing for me to follow him. Before doing so, I exchanged a brief greeting with Cutteridge, who looked even more sickly white than usual, his demeanour dejected, compared to the pompousness portrayed at the Council.

"I see you have met the Neonate Apprentice of our Chantry," Strauss said lightly, closing the door behind us.

"Yes, well, we did not have much time to get acquainted," I trailed off, not really knowing what to say about her. The fact that Strauss still called her a Neonate, after ten years, had to mean that she had yet to prove herself. That made me think that, ever since LaCroix's deposal, he had not used that appellative with me again. Was it just a coincidence?

"And yet I would say that you have lost no time in assessing her and putting her in her place," he commented with a chuckle and I felt embarrassed.

"I… that was not my original intention, I was…"

"It is not a problem, on the contrary, Alexandra needs to face reality… She is still clinging to her mortal life and cannot overcome the fact that she might have been a genius but… as a Childe… she has been a letdown. It is a wonder she survived her training without committing suicide, she was bordering on madness," he explained, while heaving a sigh and pouring some blood for us.

I did not know what to reply, lest I offended Strauss if she were his Childe. But the Regent did not seem the kind of person to Embrace someone like her without foreseeing that she might not recover from the shock. Still, if Imalia, for example, had managed to adapt to her new "life" (and even myself, truth to be told), it was testament to the fact that the less likely of people could have the instinctive ability to endure.

"Her Sire was an… associate of mine, not to mention the Regent of Boston, who died during the recent… bout of madness on the East Coast," he elucidated, as if reading my mind. "After his demise I felt obligated to take Alexandra under my wing, although I had repeatedly warned him about the risks he was taking with selecting someone with her background, no matter how brilliant she was. We usually elect to choose scholars who are… open to the prospect of the occult, or at least neutral, and even with these precautions, a lot of them do not survive the training."

"I see," I timidly replied, surprised that he was sharing even this tiny bit of insight in his clan's affairs, but, after all, these rules were simply good sense, and something I had expected myself.

"Since we are on the topic, I would like for her to second you on some of the less… demanding assignments you might receive. She could learn a lot from you."

I wondered if it were not a way to monitor me: for all I knew, Alexandra could be a prodigy Tremere too, and this all a subterfuge. Still, if she were that capable, the Regent would not have needed me as a collaborator, right?

"Max, with all due respect, wouldn't this just put more salt on the wounds? I mean, being ordered around by a Sire-less two year old, belonging to the historically rival clan…" I enquired, taking a sip of the blood and being assaulted by an exquisite taste. Probably the best I had ever had the pleasure to drink.

"It might give her the drive she needs to react. I cannot keep her hidden here forever: it is time for her either to take her flight or to..." he trailed off, bringing the flute to his lips. There was no need to finish that sentence.

"In that case, I might already have a suitable, although not particularly pleasant, task in my hands, if you agree with it, of course," I explained, proceeding to recount him the events of the night, starting with my visit to the Asylum.

"Well played, Irene, well played… I will call Voerman to let her know I will organize the security of her event personally. It is a necessary evil but it could be the perfect occasion for you to supervise Alexandra," he pondered rubbing his forehead. "I am afraid I will not be able to avoid attending myself."

"I fear so too," I said with an amused smirk, not that I could blame him for the lack of enthusiasm. "For what it is worth, A trouble shared is a trouble halved: we will all have to suffer through it. By the way, did you know that the theme is The duality in nature?"

I was rewarded by another round of heartfelt chuckles, as he poured me some more blood, which I sincerely complimented. I took the occasion to relate to him of my visit to the Warrens, of Mitnick's request and I gladly handed over Gary's envelope, feeling a lot lighter.

"In view of the fact that these buildings hold no strategic interest to me, and that it is better not to have any open obligations with Nosferatus, you may proceed this once. But I would like for you to avoid going on the front line and taking the inherent risk, unless the mission has crucial implications. You are not an expendable Neonate anymore," he explained, and I felt a wave of relief in knowing that I was finally above the status of "war meat". That did not mean I would not be assigned to dangerous tasks every now and then, but at least I would not be putting my head on the line every night for mundane reasons.

"All right, Sir… Before I forget again, I have to return this," I said, taking off the Tremere pendant and placing it down on the table.

"Very well, you are free to go. You do know how to reach Valdez's villa, yes?"

"He has given me the necessary indications. One last thing, this is my cell phone number," I explained, getting up and giving him a card. "Should you need to contact me more rapidly than with mails…"

He nodded and dictated me his own number, then I bowed and took my leave: time to get back to my haven and to some well-deserved rest.

I paid for the taxi ride as I stood in front of the tall wrought iron gate which hid from curious glances what I discovered to be a trademark Lower Bel Air Villa. Posh, concealed, prestigious and yet "modern": the perfect dwelling for the Primogen of all Toreadors. I gave up trying to calculate how much it was worth: this was one of the most exclusive residential areas in all the States.

After a small climb up an impeccably manicured lawn, complete with hedges, fountains and marble benches, I finally reached the patio. The front door opened and I was surprised when, instead of a butler Ghoul, Raoul Valdez himself stood at the entrance, his patent dazzling smile almost glowing in the darkness.

"Ms Wilson, I am pleased you could make it. I understand that these are hectic days for both Maximillian and yourself," he exclaimed with an even wider beam, if it were possible, bowing slightly to kiss my extended hand: a gesture that I had resigned myself to.

"Well, Primogen Valdez, how could I refuse such a cordial invitation from a man of your standing, not to mention an old friend of Primogen Strauss?" I replied with my most affable grin, as my cheeks started to hurt from the effort: in the last two nights I had been forced to smile so much that only a contestant at a beauty pageant could have surpassed my record. And she would have probably won the title of Miss Congeniality.

"Please, let us leave the formalities for official occasions, just call me Raoul," he entreated, closing the door behind me, as I felt a pang of uneasiness. Unwarranted friendliness usually meant trouble, besides, formalities were a reassuring barrier that worked both ways. Still, I was not in a position to refuse.

"Only if you call me Irene," I retorted amiably, while remembering the Gangrel Primogen comment about a Debutante Tea Party. I hoped he would not spend the whole night beating around the bush with social pleasantries and get to the point.

My hopes started crashing as he "entertained" me with a tour of the mansion and grounds, at least the parts open to visitors, including a lengthy commentary about his admittedly impressive art collection. Paintings seemed to be my nemesis these nights: I had nothing against them, and as a human I had liked visiting museums and galleries every now and then, but in this case they were just a part of a role-play, and I could not enjoy myself or relax until I knew what Raoul's motive was.

Finally, we reached a vine covered pergola by an enormous pool in the backyard and he gallantly took out a chair for me to sit down on, while I had to force myself not to roll my eyes. I wondered if this were his method to wear out opponents until they let their guards down: maybe some Kindred even felt at ease, or pampered by such a treatment.

He took out a bottle from an ice bucket, opened it and poured us the customary two glasses. I politely sipped on it: it was good, but it paled in comparison to the one offered by the Regent. It was probably a mere consequence of my preferences, rather than the objective quality of the vintage. Well, at least I had been able to feed for free lately, without having to going on a hunt: I should be grateful for these small mercies.

"You are… different from what I had imagined," he said at last, putting down his glass. "Not in a bad way, mind you," he added hastily after seeing my surprised expression and probably mistaking it for an offended one.

"Forgive me for asking, but, what do you mean?" I enquired, genuinely puzzled. Was it also a part of his distracting act? Because I had to admit that it was rather effective.

"Well, there have been plenty of rumours circulating about you and your… abilities… The fact that LaCroix kept you well-hidden only reinforced the speculations. It was hard making out the truth from the legends, and I was curious to see for myself," he explained with yet another smile and I felt irritation welling up in my stomach: I prayed he had not called me here merely to satisfy his curiosity. And then he had the nerve of acknowledging that the Regent and I were busy: of course, if I had to lose time providing a distraction for bored Primogen. Still, I was the Goodwill Ambassador, so I had to try and comply to his caprices, no matter how futile.

"Legends tend to be way more interesting than reality, I am afraid. There is nothing particularly exceptional about me, as you can see," I replied politely, taking another sip.

"No, that is not it, but… when you envision a Kindred capable of killing Bach, Ming Xiao and even the Sheriff… Let's just say that you look more like a politician or a businesswoman than a warrior… But I guess it was to be expected: you are a Ventrue, after all…" he trailed off, probably understanding that it did not come out too well, considering my Sire-less condition.

"Well, I am going to tell you my secret: I have a stunt double for action scenes," I jokingly retorted and his eyes went wide before he burst into laughter.

"I see why Maximillian is so fond of you: he has a penchant for wit," he said with what looked like a more honest smile.

"Fond is probably not the adjective I would use, but yes, he has a great sense of humour."

"Hope he is going to be able to keep his spirits up, if he is elected Prince. It is not going to be easy for someone like him, having the spotlight on himself. Us Toreadors and you Ventrues are more adept with public relations," he commented and I almost sighed in relief as I sensed that we were at long last getting closer to the real reason behind this meeting.

"I am sure Primogen Strauss is perfectly capable of handling the pressure: while the survival of the Camarilla is at stake, personal inclinations have to be set aside. Besides, he is not going to be alone, since he has friends like you, who he can count on," I purposefully said, giving emphasis on the last part. If he wanted a role, this was the perfect opening for him to come out in the open and say so: we had already lost enough time and I wanted to be back to my haven before sunrise. Still, I could not understand why he did not talk with Strauss directly: I guessed that Kindred simply could not be straightforward and this little dance was to be expected. Unless he thought that I had some leverage on the Regent, which was preposterous but… he was Toreador: they were prone to sentiments, and perhaps this could influence his assessment of my association with Strauss.

"I see he is already well-covered in the PR department," he chuckled, pouring us some more blood. "Still, should he need assistance in the more.. worldly corollaries of his position, I would be glad to lend a hand."

Ok, finally it was out. I was not sure, but could he be aiming to become the Seneschal? There were also other official roles, but I did not exactly see him as a Sheriff… he probably would have made a good Harpy, but was that position worth the trouble?

"I will let the Regent know about your… generous offer," I said, taking a few more sips.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed with a broad grin, lifting his own chalice.

From there on he merely engaged me in some more small talk, probably just for the sake of "subtlety", and, finally, he stood up to help me out of the chair. We strolled to the gate in silence, while I wondered how many gardeners it took to maintain such an unnatural perfection.

"I will see you tomorrow at the Conclave," he said, opening the gate and producing himself in yet another hand-kissing.

"Thank you for the hospitality," I replied, regaining control of my hand.

"It has been my pleasure, Irene, rest well."

As I waited for the taxi, I put down on paper the essential points of the meeting: calls and mails could be intercepted and this was sensitive information. I made a stop at the Chantry, dropped the folded paper in the Regent's apposite internal mailbox, which was probably more secure than Fort Knox and then rapidly headed to Skyline Apartments.

The sound of an incoming mail greeted me as soon as I opened the door: I ran up the stairs, but it was just the Regent, acknowledging the receipt of my note and thanking me for it. I breathed out in relief, as I was fearing something like the anonymous postcard that had been haunting my thoughts for the previous two nights. I had briefly considered talking to Strauss about it, but then immediately discarded the idea as ridiculous: even if it were from LaCroix, I had no proof about it, and I could not exactly disturb him with something like that. He would have taken me for an idiot.

Perhaps I should change mail address, just to be safe, and then… and then what? Phone number, magnetic lock… even the apartment, I thought with a chuckle. It was pointless: if he truly wanted to contact me, he would manage to, eventually, and I could not allow him to affect my un-life any further, otherwise he would have reached his purpose, if that mail had truly come from him.

He was out of my existence, and he could not touch me, I repeated in my head as a mantra, as I put on the most relaxing classical music CD of my collection. I took a shower and tiredly climbed into bed. Everything faded in time, more pressing worries would undoubtedly come my way… and his way, for that matter. Somewhat reassured, I snuggled in my pillow, as the notes of Chopin's Nocturne Op.9 No.2 lulled me into sleep.

A/N: So many things to write about: hope I was able to condense them without getting boring… next chapter will be full of events too, first of all the election of the new Prince.

An enormous thank you to sister-b, Loving Companion Cube, Olivia (my thanks to you for enjoying my story, and for all the compliments!) and StrangeoneXD for your reviews: I am sounding trite, but your support is amazing and really keeps me going.

Thank you also to all the readers!